


You Can't Fight Fate

by AutobotGuy710



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Former Juvenile Delinquent, Foster Family, Past Abuse, Prowl Bluestreak and Smokescreen as Brothers, Prowl as a Father, Prowl as a Mentor, Rehabilitation Program, father/son relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 22:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11954073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutobotGuy710/pseuds/AutobotGuy710
Summary: AU. Post-Dark of the Moon. Prowl has finally met his match in the form of a rough, sarcastic fifteen year old boy. Tasked with mentoring Jeffrey Devlin as part of an Autobot-run program; the Praxian and troubled youth form a close bond. Soon, however, things take a dangerous turn as a new faction, the Predacons, set out to capture the boy for nefarious purposes.





	You Can't Fight Fate

**Author's Note:**

> Third fic! Again, this one will have some dark themes to it - but not nearly as dark as my second one. Also like it, I will be posting chapters over the next few days since I have several chapters already completed!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own Transformers, I only own Jeff and any other OCs I may use!

CHAPTER 1  
Jeffrey Michael Devlin

"Is this my new recruit?"

Was that he was, a recruit?

Jeffrey Michael Devlin had been called a lot of things in his life. A nuisance, a juvenile delinquent, a brat, but a recruit? That was new. Especially when one was talking about community service. He supposed though it was a nice way of putting it, in lamens terms. And really, it was better than the last thing he was called: Inmate 4017.

It wasn't his fault really, Jeff knew that. He'd always been a good kid who'd been handed a horrible life from the age of six. But no one would believe him about that anymore - he figured, now that he'd spent five years in Boreven Juvenile Correctional Facility. He wasn't a kid in a lot of these people - both Autobot and human's eyes anymore, he knew that, he was just an ex-convict in a fifteen year old's body. Liable to end up in jail by the time he was an adult.

And so he kept his head down as his social worker spoke to the Autobot in charge.

He really wished he hadn't assigned him to do his community service in Autobot City. Sure, it was the only program with any room, but surely he could have asked around a little more. But no, here he was, standing in the middle of Autobot city with a dozen other kids and Autobots who took part in the program. All the humans looked out of place in a city that was built of giant metal skyscrapers and mostly inhabited by the mechanical robots who became Earth's protectors after the battle in Chicago nearly half a decade ago.

Jeff could really almost scowl at the fact that despite being out of place they seemed happy. Who would be happy about this situation? Or perhaps they were all just startstruck at the thought of working alongside their favorite heroes. Heroes, he snorted to himself as he brushed his brown hair from his electric blue eyes and thought about it. They'd all be nobodies he figured, your typical Autobot grunts who he doubted had even been in a battle on Earth at all.

He was torn from his thoughts when the Autobot spoke up again. "Alright, well, we're going to pair him up with someone we think is the best fit for him. Since I've heard this one has a history of getting himself in trouble," Jeff smirked a little, knowing it was an understatement, and so did his social worker. "Gonna probably stick him with Prowl, I figure. He just signed onto the program, but he's pretty good with straightening out the problem kids."

At that point, Jeff finally managed to talk. "I'm not a "problem kid" just because I'm not perfect," he replied with a bit of a snap at the mech in front of him. "And if you think I'm working with someone who handles them, this is already a joke."

"Ah, got an attitude, do we? Well, I'll have you know you're working with my boss. The Autobot second-in-command," the mech made his voice as frank as possible. "You embarrass me and you're getting booted. From the program and from the city..."

Jeff put his hands in the pockets of his jean jacket and shrugged. Trying not to meet the annoyed mech's glance as he chewed his lip. So the second-in-command of the Autobots, huh? He wondered what bet that poor mech had lost to have to babysit kids from juvie. The boy heard his social worker's throat clear as he dropped both trash bags of his things in front of Jeff. It may have insulted him how he did so once upon a time, but the teen had been a foster kid for over half his life now, so it barely phased him anymore.

The social worker, Francis, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Shortline here has agreed to take you to where you're living. So my job here is done," he told Jeff without much of a care. "Remember, Jeff, I worked my ass off to get you here. This is your one and only chance now that you're out of juvie. If I get called by this place to take you back-."

"You're not even coming with me?" Jeff replied. "You're my social worker, that's kinda illegal right? What if they've got a torture chamber or...?"

Shortline, the grey and blue mech who stood there, raised an optic ridge. He was as surprised as Jeff felt by the curt way that the social worker was acting. But perhaps attributed it to Jeff's current attitude. "I concur, you are his social worker. I was going to show you both where he'd be living," he explained, shifting a data pad under his shoulder. "Although he won't be moving yet... I can at least show you his quarters for the moment."

"What do you mean "for the moment"?"

Shortline rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, most children in the system tend to live in the supervision of the 'Bot they're assigned to. So long as they have taken the classes and gotten a foster care license. It's optional, and only a few mechs have authority, but we specifically found one for you for that reason," he explained, to which Jeff groaned at the thought. "That said, Prowl has only recently returned to the city from a mission. And I'm not even sure he's fully prepared for that."

Wait, hold up, what? Jeff threw up his hands in protest. "I am not rooming with some stiff. Screw that, I'd rather go live anywhere else. But now you're telling me I have to live with what is basically my parole officer?" he asked, getting annoyed at the thought of it already. "This sounds worse than juvie."

"You're on thin ice, here, Jeff," Francis reminded him, grabbing his arm and pulling him to the side. "Listen to me. This is the only place that can take you right now. Your only other option is house arrest until we can find a program. And that'd be served in a boys' home. Do you really want that?"

Jeff grimaced; no, he really didn't want that. He'd been to four boys' homes before and each one was worse than the last. Not that it was much of a surprise, no one could expect that his attitude came from having a good childhood. No, his distrust, smart alleckness, and general disposition had developed over many years of abuse, abandonment, and bad placements.

And it wasn't going away.

With an icy glare at his social worker, Jeff begrudgingly grabbed his two trash bags. And for the first time, if one looked really closely, Jeff's eyes had finally betrayed a hint of sadness. Shortline could probably guess from the boy's attitude that he was scared, and really just wanted nothing to do with anything. They'd seen kids that were angry at the world before, so it wasn't as if Jeff was that hard of a book to read.

So with a smile, the broad shouldered mech tried to look friendly. "Don't worry, Jeffrey. This might seem like another prison sentence at first glance, but we have fun," Jeff grimaced a little at the notion. "And at worst, it's only a few months..."

"Six," Jeff muttered. "I have to do six months of community service."

That was when his social worker said something which made Jeff's face contort as if he were in pain. "You should have thought of that before you shot your foster father. This is your own fault, Jeff. You're just lucky he survived and you got off for good behavior," Jeff was silent, but the look in his eyes said that he didn't like that being brought up. "Now come on, I haven't got all day, still have two more kids to get to placements."

Sure, that was why he was here. Because he was the screw up, the guy that had shot his foster father. The guy who had stolen his car, and then totaled it... But if they only knew why he'd done it. If anyone had any idea why he was in this situation...

Jeff pushed those thoughts from his brain. He didn't need to think about that right now. And given the fact he'd just served time for doing that, who would believe him anyway? All he had to do was get through these next six months, and then maybe find a way to escape. To get away from this state, this life, this stupid system that screwed him over time and time again.

And if that meant putting up with some stuffy high ranking Autobot then so be it, he guessed.  
\--------------------------

Prowl hadn't known what he'd expected, but it wasn't this.

He'd come into this program hoping to develop a better repetoir with the humans. As far as they were concerned, he was so quiet, and kept too much to himself. So for the sake of the Autobots public image, which although better, was still somewhat shaky, he'd agreed to Optimus' suggestion of working with local law enforcement or with a program which worked with humans.

He'd chosen the juvenile delinquent buddy program of sorts for a simple reason: he liked kids.

It was a very little known fact, given most saw him as stoic. But he had always had a soft spot in his spark for younglings - at least once they were old enough that they were self-sufficient. And the idea of working with kids coming out of correctional facilities, helping them adjust to life on the inside, was something that seemed rewarding. Which was why he'd also agreed to getting a foster care license to give those in the system a place to stay, in hopes he could help more.

Of course, he hadn't counted on the thickness of the boy's file. And it was a doozy of one if he were to be perfectly honest. He'd been in the foster care system since he was seven, after his father was murdered under mysterious circumstances, and his mother had up and disappeared. Since then he was bounced around in foster care, until the violent incident that landed him in juvie to begin with.

He had ADHD, a bit of an attitude, and was prone to fighting too, which all made Prowl a bit nervous. On paper, Jeffrey Michael Devlin sounded like he should have expected a tattooed, angry, young man who would probably give him all kinds of hell. But when he arrived to the offices of Autobot Central Command, the boy was none of these things.

He couldn't have been taller than 5'8", and was extremely scrawny. His blue eyes seemed to tell the story of someone who had seen too much in his young age, while his brown hair messily twisted into curls. He wore a pair of jeans that were too big for him, and a t-shirt that was maybe a size too small. While everything else, he noted, he had in two large trash bags that laid at each side of his chair. Prowl noted that though Jeff's trash bags were big, there was very little inside, a rather sorry sight.

Something immediately felt off on the situation. The boy didn't look dangerous, or nearly as hostile as his file read, but he also knew those were things he had to push away from himself. He knew that this boy was here for a reason, and as such, he had to keep his job as first priority. "Jeffrey Devlin?" the boy leapt to his feet shakily, taking his form in with a bit of fear in his eyes. "That's you, right? Or were we expecting more than one new arrival?"

Prowl watched as the boy took him in, knowing it was liable he was a little scared. After all, Prowl was an intimidating mech. Standing at about twenty-four feet, with two cannons on his shoulders, and chizzled features, there was no doubt the boy probably found him a bit scary. But all the same, Prowl attempted a warm, inviting smile to show him he was a friend.

Jeff didn't make any attempt to return it. "So I'm guessing you're my parole officer?"

Prowl snorted, a little amused at the analogy. "I'm the partner you've been assigned. I am far from your "parole officer". Some humans like to see us as their mentors," the boy seemed to roll his eyes at that, seemingly uninterested. "My name is Prowl. And in the next few days, you'll be getting to know me better, after which we'll move you from the bunk house you've already seen into my apartment."

Jeff looked down at the floor, trying to look uninterested. "I don't want to be here, and I definitely don't want to live with you. Look at you, you could crush me," Prowl was a little surprised by the outburst, taken aback by the suddenness of this. "This is a mistake. I don't know what they were thinking..."

Prowl noted the shakiness and fear in Jeff's voice. Quickly starting to see the front he was putting up in fear of the whole situation. "I understand this is a lot to take in. You're in a city you don't know, with a species that isn't your own. It can be scary," he explained. "I'm here to make the transition in Autobot City as smooth as possible."

"And what if I don't want to transition?"

Prowl tilted his head, trying not to laugh at this boy's attempts at being tough. It was the biggest front the mech had seen, but maybe he hadn't seen it all yet. "If you're trying to scare me away with your attitude, I'm not going to budge. I'm a former enforcer on Cybertron, this is nothing," he paused a long moment. "I do suggest that you at least try to act civil, however. As your temporary guardian, I will ask for respect and for the sake of peaceful cohabitation, you would do well to oblige."

Jeff wrinkled his nose, turning away. "Can't you just be a normal foster parent? Make me do my clean up and whatever in the city and leave me alone?" Prowl frowned a bit. "If you're trying to be my friend, it's not gonna happen. I don't trust you, don't trust anyone... And for a good reason too."

"And what reason is that?" Prowl asked.

Jeff frowned, a lump forming in his throat. As if he'd tell this mech, a police officer type of all things, why he didn't put his trust in anyone. "None of your business, that's why," he paused a moment after the curt reply. "Shortline's waiting in his office by the way. Unless you're having second thoughts."

When Jeff proceeded to ignore him again, Prowl frowned. This boy was really doing everything to test his patience, that was for sure. But unlucky, or lucky, for him, Prowl was not a mech that was easily disswayed from a situation. "Yes, I suppose your social worker will need to schedule a time to inspect my apartment again," Prowl finally replied. "I suppose I will see you tomorrow so that we can start your community service?"

"You still want to deal with me?" Jeff asked, almost surprised.

Prowl smirked, the way that Jeff said it betrayed a certain amount of surprise. And perhaps... A glimmer of hope? There was definitely a sort of look in his eyes that gave away the fact that not all adults replied as calmly as Prowl did when Jeff acted this way. "I've dealt with people with worse attitudes than yours," Prowl explained. "And I don't pretend to know why you have it. So I will simply give you the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps tomorrow you will at least try to be more civil with me, hm?"

"No promises." Jeff muttered.

As he made his way towards the door to Jeff's immediate right, he made note of the bewildered look still in his eyes. He wasn't sure if he was ever going to get through to this boy. In fact, he could already tell this was going to be a challenge. But at the very least, he would welcome the challenge, at least for now.


End file.
